Her Rodeo Man

by Cathy McDavid

  “I need to talk to you before Lynda gets here.”

  “About what?” Tatum’s anxiety shot through the roof. She was already a wreck, fretting about the meeting all last evening and convincing herself the whole thing was a mistake. She was no sales person.

  “I’d like you to take the lead today,” Ryder said.

  “What? No!”

  “You conduct the meeting. I’ll be your wing man.”

  She sat back, stunned. “I have zero experience. Repeat, zero.”

  “You’ve been helping me since I came home. With the secretary from the mining company and with Marshall Whitmen. Not to mention returning my messages, composing my correspondence and making cold calls to other rodeo arenas about reciprocal advertising.”

  “Not the same,” she insisted.

  “You’ll do fine.”

  Tatum rubbed her damp palms along her skirt. “I can’t possibly—”

  “You can. You will.”

  “Why not tell me this on the drive over?” she snapped. Or yesterday, when she called him to say she’d changed her mind?

  “Because I knew you’d be nervous.”

  “I am.”

  “And say no.”

  “Loud and clear, in case you haven’t heard me yet.”

  “Tatum, listen to me.” He waited for her to look at him, which she did reluctantly. “I went on an interview yesterday.”

  “I figured as much.”

  “The company is headquartered in Vegas with branches all over the country. Their HR team was in town recruiting, along with the VP of marketing.”

  She let that sink in. “Are you taking the job?”

  “I might. If they offer it to me.”

  “Have you told your family yet?” She groaned. “You must think me a nag.”

  He ignored her question. “I heard about the school board vote. I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too. But what can I do except move on?” She shrugged. “Which is why I’m here with you today.”

  “I agree, and this meeting with Lynda is your chance to prove your worth to my parents. I have faith in you.”

  “I need more experience.”

  “I’ll be right next to you the entire time. If you flounder, I’ll step in. If you veer in the wrong direction, I’ll steer you back on track. Just take your cues from me.”

  She shook her head vehemently.

  “This is your chance, Tatum. Think about your kids. Wouldn’t you like to be earning five thousand dollars a year more? That’s what I’ll tell my parents you’re worth.”

  “Your dad won’t pay it.”

  “We stand to make almost that much money on this contract alone if we land it. If you land it.”

  Tatum had her doubts. Mercer was beginning to warm up to her, it was true—they’d worked closely together this past week—but give her a five thousand dollar raise? Not happening.

  “Once they see how well you do, they’ll be on board.”

  Tatum drew in a deep breath. “I’m scared,” she admitted.

  “Of what? Failing or succeeding?”

  “I want to be a teacher.”

  “Are you worried you’ll find a career you like better than that?”

  “That’s not it. I’m afraid of...of...change.”

  He chuckled mirthlessly. “That Monty is a piece of work.”

  “What does he have to do with this?”

  “He took all the fight out of you. The girl I remember was brave and strong and willing to go after what she wanted.”

  Like giving an older boy a homemade Valentine card?

  “The divorce was hard.” And what had happened since.

  “Don’t let it define you.”

  Her spine straightened. “I don’t.”

  “Really?” Ryder’s tone rang with challenge.

  “I’ll have you know I’ve bounced back from some pretty dire circumstances.”

  A slow grin spread across his face. “That’s my girl. You’ll be amazing.”

  She gawked at him. “You did that on purpose. Goaded me.”

  “Consider it a pep talk.”

  “I ought to...”

  He silenced her with a subtle wave. “Save it for later. Here comes Lynda.”

  Tatum’s resolve faltered. But only momentarily. Like yesterday right after Sunny delivered the news about the school board vote, it returned with a vengeance and filled her with determination.

  She could do this. Better herself for her children’s sakes. Tatum was good with people. And smart. Creative. And, like Ryder said, he’d be right there, stepping in if need be.

  When Lynda Spencer reached their table, Tatum rose first to greet the smartly dressed woman and held out her hand. “Ms. Spencer. It’s a real pleasure to meet you. I’m Tatum Mayweather with the Easy Money.”

  * * *

  TATUM LEFT THE restaurant walking on air. Oh, she’d flubbed up during the meeting. More than once. Not terribly, though. And as promised, Ryder had jumped in to rescue her. She couldn’t say she’d led the meeting, but she’d contributed. Greatly. The final contract terms had been her suggestion, further encouraged by Ryder’s imperceptible nod of approval.

  Lynda—she and Tatum were on a first-name basis now—hadn’t even asked for a formal letter of intent. Rather, she’d told Tatum to forward the completed contract at her earliest convenience.

  No wonder Ryder loved his job. She, too, could get used to this amazing elation at the close of every deal. It wasn’t the same sense of satisfaction that teaching gave her. Far different, in fact. It was, however, rewarding and fulfilling. She’d missed the feeling.

  “Nice grin,” Ryder said as they wove through the parking lot toward his truck.

  She had the humility to look chagrined. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He went around and opened the passenger door for her. “You have every right to gloat. Heck, I’d be gloating, too, if I were you.”

  “I can honestly say you taught me everything I know.”

  “I’m recommending my folks give you a bonus when Lynda returns the signed contract.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “No guarantee. But they need to know how well you did.”

  She paused. The words she’d intended to utter died on her lips when she realized she was caught between Ryder and the truck’s interior. Not trapped exactly but...contained, his strong arms bracketing her sides.

  A sudden warmth pooled in her middle. She would have attributed it to the warm afternoon if not for the light-headedness that increased the closer he got.

  Struggling to bring a calm to the abrupt storm of emotions, she said, “I’ll run the draft contract by you before giving it to Mercer.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He dipped his head. Only a fraction of an inch but enough to ignite a delicious thrill.

  Was he going to kiss her? A small, silent voice inside her pleaded, yes, yes.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” he said, his voice trailing off.

  “What?” Take her to dinner? Take her home? Take her in his arms?

  “I have a stop to make on the way out of town.”

  “A stop?” She leaned involuntarily toward him.

  Ryder did the same and reached behind her. Only instead of pulling her against him, he removed the portfolio he’d left on the seat and dropped it to the floor.

  “The hardware store. I told Dad I’d pick up some lightbulbs and salt pellets for the water softener. He’s helping Mom with chores at the house.”

  So much for spontaneous romantic gestures. Ryder backed away, and, when she climbed onto the truck seat, he closed the door behind her.

  Good grief. She was such an idiot, reading meaning into a
meaningless comment. What had she been thinking? That he wanted to stop for flowers and a bottle of wine? Hardly.

  With all the casualness she could muster, Tatum continued the conversation, as if Sunny’s honey-do list was absolutely riveting. “Chores for your mom?”

  “Yeah. Dad’s trying to get in her good graces.” Ryder sent her a wry look. “He’s hell-bent on remarrying her.”

  “Cassidy told me.” She’d talked Tatum’s ear off one night well into the wee hours. Tatum had listened and given what counsel she could.

  “She’s not happy about it,” Ryder observed, “but Liberty’s overjoyed.”

  “What about you?”

  “My parents’ love life is none of my business.”

  The three Beckett siblings divided, as always. Was he, like Cassidy, not in favor of a reconciliation? Tatum could see both sides. Sunny and Mercer were a great team, even if they did disagree from time to time. Plus, they had a long history together, not all of it unhappy.

  On the flip side, Sunny had lied to her entire family about Mercer being Liberty’s father. It was a lot to sweep under the carpet. A lot to forgive.

  Ryder turned the truck into a small plaza. She had been there more times than she could count. A couple doors down from the hardware store was a hobby shop with its gaily painted windows advertising specials. Before the school had laid her off, she’d made a monthly trek to the hobby shop in search of classroom and art supplies.

  “Come on.” Ryder beckoned when Tatum hesitated. “It’s too hot to sit in the truck.”

  He was right.

  Groaning to herself, she flung open the passenger door and got out. Did she have to continually turn a good time into a bad time simply because she’d misinterpreted something Ryder said?

  “Tatum. Hi.”

  At the familiar voice behind her, she spun. “Maggie. Hello.” She stopped to speak to her friend. “Don’t you have class this afternoon?”

  “There’s an assembly next week, and I volunteered to make a supply run.” Maggie carried a large sack with the hobby shop’s trademark logo in each hand.

  “Looks like you bought out the entire store.”

  “I figured I’d make the gas count.” She eyed Ryder with curiosity. “Hello, have we met before?”

  “Ryder Beckett.” He smiled.

  “Of course. I should have guessed. You look like your father.” Her smile widened to include Tatum. “Are all the Beckett men heartbreakers?”

  Tatum forced herself not to react. Inside, she worried that her attraction to Ryder was obvious to anyone who bothered to look closely.

  The three of them visited for several minutes. Before leaving, Maggie told Tatum, “We miss you at the school.”

  “I miss everyone there, too.”

  “I’d best get going.” She switched both bags to one hand in order to give Tatum a hug. “It’s a long drive home, and I have supper to get on the table.”

  In the hardware store Tatum followed Ryder from aisle to aisle, still feeling a little uncomfortable and put out. At the truck, he loaded his purchases into the bed, the heavy bag of salt pellets landing with a thud.

  “If you opened your store,” he said, “your friends wouldn’t have to drive into Globe.”

  “There’s no chance of that happening.”

  “Not with you doing as great as you did today.”

  She’d been thinking more about a lack of finances.

  They didn’t talk much after that, and Tatum let her gaze aimlessly travel the streets of town. Ryder’s sharp right turn startled her out of her reverie.

  “Where are we going?”

  “The marina,” he answered without preamble.

  “To take down our rodeo poster from their window?”

  “They don’t need us for that.”

  “Then, what?”

  He clammed up. Tatum was just beginning to get annoyed when he entered the marina lot. Instead of parking near the quaint, nautical-style building with its life preservers hanging from the roof eaves, he drove to the north edge and the lakeshore.

  “Ryder.”

  “I thought we’d play hooky for a bit.” He opened his door and stepped out. “Come on, Tatum. Walk with me. It’s beautiful out.”

  It was. Bright afternoon sun reflected off the rippling water, splintering into a million flickering diamonds.

  When she hesitated, he said, “I want to explain. About what happened at my old job and why I really need to find another one.”

  That, she decided, was worth playing hooky for.

  Chapter Twelve

  Revealing the biggest blunder of one’s life wasn’t easy. Revealing it to a woman you cared about took it to the next level.

  In the parking lot of the hardware store, Ryder had nearly kissed Tatum. Would have kissed her if given the chance. Fortunately, he’d stopped himself in the nick of time, before heaping mistake upon mistake.

  His mother was right; Tatum had been through a lot and was practically raising her three children alone. She needed her job at the arena. More so now that the board had voted against rehiring her. He couldn’t mess things up for her by getting personally involved. There was too much at stake.

  Beneath their feet, the pontoon dock swayed and creaked like the moving floor of a carnival fun house. When it appeared Tatum might lose her balance, Ryder grabbed her elbow and steadied her.

  “These aren’t the best shoes for a dock.”

  He glanced down at the delicate black sandals, her painted toenails peeking out from beneath the straps. Feminine and very sexy and about as far removed from cowboy boots as possible. He wondered what her feet would look like bare and nestled next to his.

  “I like your shoes,” he said.

  A bench was anchored to the end of the dock, large enough for two adults if they sat elbow to elbow.

  Ryder gestured, and Tatum gratefully wobbled over to it.

  She pulled the folds of her frilly skirt tight to her legs before sitting. It was also feminine and very sexy.

  Ryder gave a low moan. Tatum could break down every one of his defenses just with the clothes she wore.

  He sat beside her. The bench rocked sharply before settling. In the distance, a speed boat zoomed past. At the marina store, a group of fishermen ambled inside, poles and tackle boxes clasped in their hands. Water birds flew overhead, clustered together in a small flock. The next instant, they changed direction and drifted to the lake’s surface in a graceful, seemingly choreographed, dance. Touching down, they dunked their heads completely under water in search of a meal.

  “It’s beautiful.” Tatum’s eyes widened as she took in the sights. “I can’t remember my last trip to the lake. It’s not far. I should bring the kids here more often.”

  She was rambling, his suggestion that they talk obviously unnerving her. Well, she had nothing on him. Ryder’s mouth was bone dry, and the air felt too thin to breathe.

  “I didn’t quit Madison-Monroe,” he finally said. “Okay, I did quit, but only because if I refused, I’d have been fired.”

  “Fired?” She studied him with interest, not judgment.

  “And slapped with a lawsuit.”

  “What happened?”

  “I was accused of inappropriate conduct.” He swallowed again. “By one of my female team members.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  He’d been expecting her to recoil. Find him repulsive. Certainly be shocked. Instead, she’d defended him. That wouldn’t last when she heard the details.

  “Within the span of a week, I went from being head marketing exec of a large ad agency to being out of a job and pretty much unemployable.”

  “That’s a serious charge. Why would she accuse you?” Trust Tatum to bypass the superficial an
d get to the crux of the matter.

  “I did touch her. On the arm. It could have been construed as inappropriate.”

  “Was it inappropriate?”

  “We dated. When I ended things, she became angry.”

  Tatum listened quietly as Ryder explained the details of his office romance, the messy breakup and messier aftermath. He tried to be as honest as possible and not paint himself as the victim, though that was how he felt.

  “I screwed up,” he concluded.

  “You did.”

  Apparently, she was through defending him.

  “You shouldn’t have touched her arm. Not at the office and not in front of other people. Other than that...” She exhaled slowly. “There’s always risk in crossing professional boundaries. The school has a strict no-fraternizing policy. I suppose with good reason.”

  “Which is why I wanted to talk to you,” he said.

  “About the school’s policies?”

  “About us. This attraction we have.” He waited until her gaze met his. It was guarded. “We work together. Seeing each other, engaging in any relationship other than platonic, is not a good idea.”

  She pondered for several moments before answering. “The arena is different from most work places. It’s impossible to separate personal relationships from professional ones. The owners are former husband and wife. Their three children work for them. Cassidy and I are best friends. Your mom is like a second mother to me. Liberty is marrying a former employee, who also happens to be the arena’s legal counsel. I don’t think it’s possible to cross more professional boundaries than those.”

  “Are you saying you think it’s all right for us to date?”

  “No, I’m not. But for different reasons.”

  He took a stab in the not so dark. “Because I’m leaving.”

  A flash of anguish shone in her eyes. “I’ve already been abandoned by one man.”

  “I wouldn’t hurt you, Tatum. Not intentionally and not if I could help it.”

  “I believe you.” She offered up a tentative smile. “And I appreciate you telling me what really happened at Madison-Monroe.”

  “I thought you should know.”

  It did explain a lot.